#fulltime work

Quitting your job and living in a forest.

(That’s a big number for me, by the way. I know some people can write that in a day, but I don’t. Some months I only write 25,000 words or less)

And the thing is, I didn’t try to write more. I didn’t drag myself to the library, put myself on the clock, and say “I’m going to sit here until I’ve clocked X number of hours writing.” I didn’t try to fill the hours I would have been working with words.

I did it anyway.

This is so motivating and yet so, so disappointing. Because it’s just one week, right, so it’s a skewed sample size, but it also points out something I was so, so reluctant to acknowledge. Working full time has harmed my writing. It has sucked the life and the energy out of me so that when I come home at night, all I want to do is crawl into bed. Sometimes I force myself to write anyway, but my pace is different, and my sessions are short. I don’t start two hour sessions that result in 2000 word scenes. I write for half an hour and give up after 300 words.

So obviously I’ve got to figure out how to make a change. I know my current job is killing me. Maybe the best I can hope for is that by getting a new one, the strangulation, the complete cutting off of all my creative air, won’t be so bad?

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I enjoy this job but it is not ideal.

I don't mind earlier nights and I don't mind not seeing my friends who keep a different schedule from me.  

I do mind that I can no longer avoid long line-ups.  I dislike going to the mall on Sundays when it is crowded.  I prefer going to malls at around 10:30am on a weekday.  I want to go shopping in the States on a Tuesday, like I normally do. 

These are all little inconveniences that do not make my life unmanageable.  My sister has a motto of "work there until you can't take it anymore" which I adopted sometime in March while working for Bell Canada. 

This year, I expect at least 5 T4s. 

When accepting this new job in late September, I told my employer that I'd be working for him for no more than 3 years.